


Wind

by Shadowstar



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Lots of Angst, M/M, Tumblr Fic, prompt: wind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowstar/pseuds/Shadowstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everything alright with your visit, sir?” She asks him softly, her phone falling from in front of her face immediately. </p>
<p>He gives her a thin smile, pale eyes sad and tired.</p>
<p>“As good a visit with Gregory as I ever have,” he murmurs softly in return, earning a solemn nod.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a question meme on Tumblr; one of the questions was the prompt of 'wind' and a request for fic. So, here's one version that I wrote to the prompt.

He isn’t sure when he noticed it. The slight tickling against his skin, the briefest of shifting of his hair against his forehead. But when he opens his eyes, everything is still, quiet. Silent. The moment stretches on, before it happens again, bringing with it the soft smell of summer: the warm smell of fresh cut grass, the smell of the sun-baked earth, of /sunshine/. It’s hard to describe the smell of summer, even though it is obvious what it is. 

It is too bad that he can’t actually enjoy it. 

He finds himself opening his eyes again, shifting on his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets. Listening to the wind beginning to rustle in the trees around him, hearing it beginning to pick up, even as in his peripheral he can see the clouds beginning to build on the distant horizon. 

Despite the warmth, he is—as always—dressed to the ‘nines’. Dressed wholly in a three-piece suit, the chain of his grandfather’s watch hanging from his suit jacket pocket. It is uncomfortable to be wearing such a dark suit on such a warm day, all buttoned up to the throat and the tie properly in place against his chest. But he cannot see himself dressing in any other fashion, not today.

Not ever on this day.

He finds himself listening to the wind as his eyes slipped closed again, sweat being cooled by the hot breeze. Some things, at least, are a relief. Brief though it may be. Despite the shade of the tree, this spot is over warm. Heated. Not something he wants to really think about, to be distracted by. But he is. And it hurts.

Just as he’s thinking he cannot take it any longer, his phone buzzes in his pocket, signaling to him that it is time to go, now. That his time here is done. He straightens himself before leaning forward, pressing his hand to the only cool thing in this hot, forsaken place. He doesn’t stop with his hand, though, leaning down and in to press a kiss to the cold white marble, eyes closed as he takes in some kind of relief from it. Even though he cannot find any other, there.

When he turns from the sight, he straightens himself as best he can, walking with long strides back down the hill. At the base of it is the black sedan, always waiting for him, the figure of a woman visible even from this distance. When he reaches her side, she glances up, eyes hidden behind large sunglasses and shaded by a large hat.

“Everything alright with your visit, sir?” She asks him softly, her phone falling from in front of her face immediately. 

He gives her a thin smile, pale eyes sad and tired.

“As good a visit with Gregory as I ever have,” he murmurs softly in return, earning a solemn nod. 

He pauses as he’s getting into the car, listening to the wind, feeling it on his face, just before he is shut away again, putting on the icy, bitter mask that not even this heat can break through.

Not any more, at least.


End file.
